Barcelona uncovered

Despite the heat pouring on like a blessing and the aching of feet rejecting to move, I was walking in a city to explore multifaceted corners of its history, culture and people. I was walking in a city of Gaudi – the city of my dreams…
La Sagrada Família, La Rambla, La Boqueria turned out to be more just names. “Hola, can I help you”, “Hola, would you like to try our Meal of the Day”, “Hola, is this street to Museu Picasso??!!!” - a place of endless searches, opportunities and wonders.
I let myself to be dipped into the mysterious and narrow streets of the Old Town. One loses the sense of reality by wandering around Gothic buildings and monuments. One of the endless streets drove me into an impressive square - Plaça Reial – packed with hundreds of visitors. The square welcomed its guests with the palm trees, the Fountain, Gaudi’s famous lampposts, open-air cafes and a long queue of persons to… to a restaurant. Funny, what food they must serve to have so many people eager to try.
When turning to leave, a loud non-traditional music starts and around 7-8 persons (at first sight, non-locals) start entertaining people sitting in an open-air café under the 19th century naves. At first, you like the entertainment, they make some gym tricks, dancing and jumping. Ten minutes later, one observes and feels how the body gets tired, the body says enough while the mind persists on moving… making money… for parents in Senegal. The performance is over and the hat that just a minute ago was an accessory to allure the audience turned into a beggar’s can. “An Euro per person to pay for a room in a remote part of the city, get some food and save money to send HOME”. Was it only me that felt uneasy, sad and ashamed. I run away from the Plaça Reial and the falling evening skillfully masked the sadness inside.
I got out from the Old Town… walking to the Majestic Fountain to make myself enjoy another must-see touristic sight. Walking up the street from the Plaça d'Espanya, I saw a person running towards my direction with something heavy on his back. He looked like the guys in the Plaça Reial. He run by and a police was following him. I turned back to make sure he has not been caught by the police. Hopefully, no…
I stood near the Majestic Fountain surrounded by tourists with careless eyes and happy faces; I wished the drops of the water, changing its shape and color every now and then, could ease the memory of a Senegalese man running away in the city… the city of my dreams.